


Out of the Woods

by twitch



Series: kylux cantina prompts [16]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Creative Use of Folklore, Folklore, Hunters & Hunting, M/M, Nymphs & Dryads, Prompt Fic, Trees
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-14 15:37:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11211048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twitch/pseuds/twitch
Summary: The tales had been passed down from generation to generation. Some of the clans threw in some variation, to create a story unique to themselves. Of mighty poets or warriors. The outcasts or beloved family members.Hux had been neither, was surprised that they even decided to keep him as one of their own. He was born to a woman outside of their clan. One of the Unclaimed Ones. They had their own stories and traits. Too curious and inquisitive to stay in one place. Independent. But he had his father’s stubbornness. Which led him to leave their grove, travelling further along the path that made way to plains and fields.He shouldn't be out here. The tales always gave the same warning. Life beyond the Forests could not be trusted.





	Out of the Woods

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr for kylux cantina for the Images theme. The photo as a prompt is [this one](http://68.media.tumblr.com/6f0ea925d9bc6fbbba31cbbf3b5d23ef/tumblr_oqd9oda13y1vnh0k8o1_1280.jpg).

The tales had been passed down from generation to generation. Some of the clans threw in some variation, to create a story unique to themselves. Of mighty poets or warriors. The outcasts or beloved family members. 

Hux had been neither, was surprised that they even decided to keep him as one of their own. He was born to a woman outside of their clan. One of the Unclaimed Ones. They had their own stories and traits. Too curious and inquisitive to stay in one place. Independent. 

But he had his father’s stubbornness. Which led him to leave their grove, travelling further along the path that made way to plains and fields.

He shouldn't be out here. The tales always gave the same warning. Life beyond the Forests could not be trusted. 

Yet when he saw the dark-haired man on the night of the new moon he wanted to believe otherwise. The hunting party he was in had followed the footprints of the bear that his stepsisters adored. He was watching them to ensure his safety. The dark-haired man bristled him without a glance or touch. The way he carried himself was unlike the other hunters. In spite of the spear he carried he wasn’t holding it in a way to prepare for a kill. He was using it more like a walking stick. When he didn’t he beat out a rhythm, blade dipping into the dry earth.

The double-ended spear was a threat but he still moved closer.

The following night he went out again, his excuse to ensure the bear’s safety. The hunters hadn’t found him the night before. They didn’t show up, but the spear carrying man did.

This time he didn’t bring the weapon. Unprotected from the dangers of the night he followed him, leaving him be when he returned to the plains at dawn.

The night after, the man returning again, he felt unseen eyes tracking his movements.

When he saw his eyes, unnaturally bright in the dark, he wondered what he thought he saw. Neither moved to run away or draw nearer. A silent standoff.

The next night he had come to a clearing in the forest, standing in front of the sacred circle of flowers his stepsisters planted.

“My name is Ben. I live alone in the small house at the edge of the village. The one with the red roof.”

Closing his eyes he extended his hand, blowing on his fingers.

A bud of a leave unfurled, sweet but lightly perfumed. It was only the beginning of spring, he wasn’t at the height of his fragrance. He flitted his fingers, an upward and side to side dance until the leaf landed softly on Ben’s shoulder.

He plucked it off his shirt, lips rounding in wonder. “You - you don’t need to be scared of me. I’ve never hurt anyone my whole life.”

The following night, back by the small garden, he animated the leaves he blew in Ben’s direction to take the shape of a smile.

The next night he let his breath, sharper with the scent of blooming leaves and warm sunlight, caress Ben’s cheek.

A week since he first met him Ben stroked the leaves that created the illusion of his face.

The eighth night Hux stepped out from behind his ancestors, cautiously approaching Ben.

Fingers touched, smooth skin on lightly grooved skin, but the next night Ben was bold. He too returned the touch of lips, disbelief overwhelmed by affection.

“Hux,” he breathed when they finally drew apart.

Now came the night, holding his breath, he ventured out from the forest, towards the red-roofed house.


End file.
